May The Odds Be Never In Your Favour
by The Sweetest Blasphemy
Summary: What if Katniss didn't exist and nobody could take Prim's place in the Games? This is my take on what could happen.


**A/N ****so I know anybody who has been reading my Divergent fanfic (Reconstruction) was told quite a while ago to expect a surprise on June 6****th****… well this is that surprise, just about 20 days late *embarrassed face* I wanted to give my amazing readers something on my birthday instead of just getting stuff. **

**Well I decided to do this because I know that like Divergent, the Hunger Games has a huge fan base, and I wanted to put a twist on the familiar story line. I was thinking, what if Katniss didn't exist and there was nobody to volunteer in Prim's place? Well this is what would happen. This first chapter is in Prim's POV.**

**Chapter 1:**

_Blood pounds in my ears. Thoughts scream through my mind, too swift and loud to tell one from the others, causing my head to throb. Left, right, left, right, my legs pump furiously and a harsh burn spreads through my muscles. Sweat drips down my back and forehead and into my eyes, blurring my vision. Still, I continue running down the dark path, dodging the branches and roots of gnarled trees. A wordless scream rips through the air, followed by a feral snarl, causing my heart to skip a beat. Breathing hard, I pick up the pace. I hear the same voice from before, except this time he screams my name, turning the familiar word into a chilling cry for help. I sprint around one last turn, and then skid to a halt, horrified at the sight before me. A strangely wolf-like shadow of a monster stands crouched over a boy who seems to be only about a year or two older than me. He turns his head to stare past the wolf monster at me, his piercing eyes meeting mine. For a brief moment, I almost forget the wolf monster completely distracted by the handsome boy lying before me, his eyes absolutely breathtaking. His lips part slightly to mouth my name. My mind clouds with confusion when I realize the voice that whispers my name is not his. The new voice is familiar, one I've heard my whole life. I look around, searching for a face to match it as I hear my name called again, louder this time. The name that matches the m=voice remains just beyond my grasp, so I turn back to the boy, take in the pain shown clearly on his face as the wolf monster digs it's claws into his shoulders. I rush forward to help when the voice booms, reverberating through the air, accompanied by a force that shakes the world, everything crumbling around me. _"PRIM!"

My eyes fly open and I gasp, trying to catch my breath. Right before my face I see the owner of the disembodied voice, in all his blue eyed, blonde haired glory. "Ugh! Peeta, get off my bed!" with a small grunt of effort I push him off my bed. I can't help but giggle when he falls to the floor with a dull thump.

Peeta is my annoying twin brother. He seems to think that just because he's six minutes older than me, that makes him in charge of me. Yeah, right. Our father always told us to be glad we live the life we do. After all, we always have enough food to eat, we have a pretty nice house, our father is a baker, our mother is the district's healer, I even have my own goat, Lady. Our parents never get tired of telling us how dad won mom over. She had been engaged to a man I only know as Mr. Everdeen, dad had been her best friend. Dad had always loved mom, right from when they were young and met on the first day of school. Only weeks before mom's wedding, dad confessed that he loved her. He was very skilled in various forms of art – he had to be, he was District 12's best baker – so he gave her a painting that had taken him nearly a month to complete. It was a mosaic, comprised of pictures symbolizing his favorite memories of their time together. All the pictures put together created a beautifully complicated heart. Mom realized that marrying Mr. Everdeen would be a huge mistake so she told him she couldn't go through with the wedding. She and dad got married one year later, then nearly two years after that Peeta and I were born. Fast forward through fifteen years and here we are today. Our birthday. We should be happy, but the mood is killed somewhat by the fact that it is also Reaping day.

I crawl from my bed and shoo Peeta out of my room. Yawning, I stretch then cross over to my closet to take out my Reaping dress. It is a beautiful sky blue that matches my eyes exactly with a low but still modest neckline. The skirt of it is flowing and ends just above my knees. After getting dressed I put my long blonde hair into a high ponytail and head downstairs. There I find Peeta already dressed in a dress shirt and pants, his hair combed neatly, standing next to mom and dad as he makes some breakfast for himself. Unable to resist the urge, I sneak up behind Peeta, and just as he reaches for a bowl I stick out my hand and mess up his hair. He drops the bowl with a yelp, then turns to glare at me. I respond with a cheeky grin just as mom yells, "Primrose Mellark! I just finished Peeta's hair. I will not have my children look like a pair of scruffy troublemakers. Now come here Peeta so I can fix you up again." Peeta walks over to her, sticking his tongue out at me as he passes. I shrug at him, then grab some breakfast for myself. I sit down at the table with a bowl of cereal and start eating. Dad walks up, kisses me on the top of my head and says, "Happy birthday kiddo. We've got a special surprise for you and Peeta after the Reaping." I look at him curiously, but he offers me no hints, only a wink. I sigh, then return to my breakfast. After eating the last bite I stand then bring my bowl and spoon to the sink and wash them out. With some time left on my hands after that and nothing to do I go into the living room, flop on the couch and switch on the TV. Channel after channel, all it shows is what the various districts and the Capitol are doing to prepare for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. Interviews with the game makers, victors from previous years, and the families of tributes who didn't survive. All it does is depress me. I sigh and lean back, praying that Peeta and I will be able to escape the Games at least one more year. So far we've been lucky, neither of us has been reaped, nor have any of our close friends.

Soon it is time to make our way to City Hall, where the Reaping is held each year. Nervous, we are in no hurry to part ways, waiting as long as we can before hugging and whispering "Good luck" to each other. I give Peeta one last embrace, then head over to the group of girls as Peeta strolls over to the boy's side, trying –and failing- to appear confident.

Moments later, a beaming woman walks on stage up to the microphone and introduces herself as Effie Trinket. She launches into a brief history, congratulating Haymitch Abernathy; the only victor District 12 has ever had for his victory twenty-four years ago in the second Quarter Quell. He offers only a nod and a loud laugh to acknowledge that he heard, too drunk to do much else as he sways in his seat. Effie turns back to all of us waiting, then continues. "So here we are, at the beginning of yet another fabulous and exciting Hunger Games. Before the Reaping begins, I have one last thing to say to all of you." She pauses dramatically before saying the same line she uses every year, as if we could possibly forget it. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She grins widely, reminding me of a clown in her caked on makeup before continuing. "Without further ado, let us begin. Let's mix it up a bit, shall we? Gentlemen first, and the male tribute for District 12 shall be…" she pauses to dig her hand through the slips of paper in the container, then pulls one out and reads it. "Gale Hawthorne! Come up on stage." I see a boy; probably seventeen or eighteen make his way through the crowd of relieved boys. He is fairly handsome, tall with lean muscles, dark hair and gray eyes like many from the Seam, the poorest part of the district. I don't know him and I feel relieved of some of my tension. Effie asks if anyone is willing to take his place, but as always there are no volunteers. Gale does not seem scared that he has basically been condemned to a violent death; instead his eyes take on a defiant gleam.

I return my attention to Effie as she announces, "And now the female tribute of District 12 will be…" another pause as she digs through the girl's names before picking one. I close my eyes tightly and cross my fingers, praying. "Primrose Mellark!" No. No no no, it's impossible. It can't be me. I almost begin hyperventilating when one of the girls next to me gives me a gentle shove and I realize Effie has called me up onto the stage. I stumble through the crowd, my legs shaking and tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I trip on the steps leading onstage, but I'm caught before I can fall. Looking up, I see Gale Hawthorne's deep gray eyes. I murmur a quiet "thank you" then continue onstage where everyone can see me. Effie asks if anyone is willing to take my place, but there are no volunteers for me either. I blink back tears as Gale and I are led into separate rooms where we wait for friends and family so we can say goodbye.

I wait for around ten minutes, struggling against the urge to just curl up in my chair and cry, but I resist. For all I know, all of Panem could be watching this. _What have I done to deserve this?_ Eventually Peeta, mom and dad walk in. mom isn't even bothering to hold back her tears, and dad and Peeta seem close to breaking down as well. Dad carries a large box with holes poked into it, which he sets down in front of me. "Sorry we took so long honey. I didn't want to break my promise to you about the promise, though this is not how I meant it." He begins to choke up as he finishes, then slides off the lid to the box, revealing a scruffy gray kitten staring up at me. "Say hello to Buttercup." The tears begin to flow at last as I reach down to gently lift him out of the box. He lets out a startled mew but doesn't struggle when I set him on my lap. He sits down and I stroke his fur, causing him to start purring immediately.

I look through tear blurred eyes and whisper "Thank you, all of you." My voice cracks slightly, but I don't care. I set Buttercup back in his box so I can stand and hug my dad, crying into his shoulder. Mom and Peeta join in the hug, each of us comforting the others.

A few minutes later the guard at the door tells them they have to leave. We say our final goodbyes, dad saying that he knows I will come back to them, that this won't be my last birthday. Mom just cries silently and kisses me on the cheek, unable to find and words to say. Peeta gathers me into another hug and whispers into my ear "Kick some ass out there sis. I know you can do this." I nod, then pull away because the guard is obviously getting impatient. I sit back down as my family and Buttercup are led out of the room.

Not a minute later, my friend Madge is brought into the room. Guess this day is just full of surprises. Madge and I are friends, but aren't exactly what one might call 'close'. "I just wanted to wish you luck Prim, I know you will make all of District 12 proud. Also, I know tributes are allowed to take one thing with them, as long as it isn't a weapon." As she says this she holds out a beautiful golden pin. It features an elegant bird clutching an arrow in its beak, surrounded by a golden ring. I recognize the bird as a mockingjay, which is a cross between a mockingbird and a mutation created years ago by the Capitol called the Jabberjay. It was meant to be used to spy on their enemies to get information, but they ended up breeding with mockingbirds.

I am surprised by this gift, but thankful that I will have something to remind me of home. "Thank you." I say as I pin it to the left side of my dress, close to my heart. "Goodbye Madge, I'm sorry we couldn't have been closer." She nods, then hugs me before being escorted out of the room by the guard.

Sitting there alone in that room, I manage to stop crying. I think that maybe this isn't too bad. Everybody has to die at some point in their lives. I'll just die earlier than I had expected, but now I have a chance to prove myself. Prove that I'm not just some weak little town girl. Prove that I have a chance in all this. I will make it home, no matter who I have to kill to do so. I refuse to let my family feel the pain of watching me get killed in some brutal way; I would rather be the killer. These thoughts are beginning to frighten me, but I can't stop them.

The guard steps into the room again, grabs me by the arm to lead me out to the train. Just before I step on, he flashes me a malicious grin, then whispers "Hope you're having a nice birthday little girl." I hear him laughing even after the doors close behind me.

**A/N and I'm finally done that! Well the first chapter at least, second chappie is on the way :D now I'm really hoping I'll get some good reviews, tell me what you think, feel free to ask questions or point out mistakes. Also, I've made sure to plan this fanfic out much better than I did with Reconstruction, this one will basically follow what happens in the Hunger Games trilogy, but with my own sick twists to it, hehehe *evil grin* also, I'm betting nobody will be able to guess who the guy from her dream is! Until next time, love you all, mwah!**


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